That damn poster
by WolfKomoki
Summary: Neil puts up an Autism Speaks poster in the hospital, and Shaun, for obvious reasons, gets upset.


**The Good Doctor is owned by ABC.**

 **Update: Oh boy, this fic. What can I say about it? Honestly this fic was barely a fic. It was more of a PSA than an actual story, which, I realize that now. Really this would have worked better as a blog post than a fanfiction. Still, this fic is uploaded now so there's not much I can do about that. We're all critical of our own work at the end of the day, and this fic is no exception.  
Still, since this fic serves as a PSA I'll leave it up, but honestly guys, I have way better stories for The Good Doctor on my profile.**

Shaun walks into the hospital. It's April, also known as the worst month of the year. The month where people "light it up blue" claiming that they "contributed to Autism awareness", but for Shaun, it's a painful reminder. It's a painful reminder that he's not seen as an equal, but as lesser. It shows him that he must remove a vital part of who he is to be seen as human, and equal to everybody else. Yes, people can "light it up blue" for one day and claim they "contributed to Autism awareness", but it doesn't do a thing for Shaun who has to fight stigma every day. Shaun hates April the second with every fiber of his being.

Shaun walks into the main cortex, and that's when he sees it: An Autism Speaks poster hanging on the wall. When he sees the poster, angry tears pour from his eyes. He can't believe that the hospital would put that garbage on the walls. He thought that they were different, he really did. He's greeted by Neil.

"Hey Shaun. Did you like the poster?" He asks. Shaun runs straight for the bathroom, tears in his eyes as he locks himself in the stall. He collapses to his knees, and that's when he sobs. Neil just stares in confusion.

"What did I _do_? I thought that he'd like the poster." Neil asks, and that's when Claire walks into the room.

"Oh my God, Neil you _didn't_." She gasps.

"I don't understand, what did I _do_?" Neil asks.

"Autism Speaks is harmful. They call Autistic people burdens, tragedies, diseased. They claim that Autistic children have been kidnapped. They compare Autistic people to pediatric aids, cancer, and diabetes combined. They claim that Autism will make a marriage fail.

They constantly talk about cure campaigns, and eugenics. They claim that Autism stole their children. They claim that you should fear Autistic people. They constantly speak over Autistic people, and claim that they can't speak for themselves. They claim that Autistic people are missing. They support a terrible therapy called ABA, or Applied Behavior Analysis.

This "therapy" is designed to help Autistics appear more neurotypical, but it's a very abusive therapy. Often food and drinks are withheld until the Autistic person complies. And if that doesn't work, they shock the Autistic person. Autism Speaks is a hate group, and many Autistic people hate them." Claire explains. Neil's eyes widened in shock.

"How did I not know about any of this? I thought they were good." He asks.

"I was shocked when I found out. They do a damn good job of covering their tracks." Claire says, and that's when she shows him their commercial on her phone.

"I am autism. I'm visible in your children, but if I can help it, I am invisible to you until it's too late. I know where you live. And guess what? I live there too. I hover around all of you.

I know no color barrier, no religion, no morality, no currency. I speak your language fluently. And with every voice I take away, I acquire yet another language. I work very quickly. I work faster than pediatric aids, cancer, and diabetes combined.

And if you're happily married, I will make sure that your marriage fails. Your money will fall into my hands, and I will bankrupt you for my own self-gain. I don't sleep, so I make sure you don't either. I will make it virtually impossible for your family to easily attend a temple, birthday party, or public park without a struggle, without embarrassment, without pain.

You have no cure for me. Your scientists don't have the resources, and I relish their desperation. Your neighbors are happier to pretend that I don't exist - of course, until it's their child. I am autism. I have no interest in right or wrong. I derive great pleasure out of your loneliness.

I will fight to take away your hope. I will plot to rob you of your children and your dreams. I will make sure that every day you wake up you will cry, wondering who will take care of my child after I die? And the truth is, I am still winning, and you are scared. And you should be.

I am autism. You ignored me. That was a mistake. And to autism I say:

I am a father, a mother, a grandparent, a brother, a sister.

We will spend every waking hour trying to weaken you. We don't need sleep because we will not rest until you do. Family can be much stronger than autism ever anticipated, and we will not be intimidated by you, nor will the love and strength of my community.

I am a parent riding toward you, and you can push me off this horse time and time again, but I will get up, climb back on, and ride on with the message. Autism, you forget who we are. You forget who you are dealing with. You forget the spirit of mothers, and daughters, and fathers and sons.

We are Qatar. We are the United Kingdom. We are the United States. We are China. We are Argentina. We are Russia. We are the European Union. We are the United Nations.

We are coming together in all climates. We call on all faiths. We search with technology and voodoo and prayer and herbs and genetic studies and a growing awareness you never anticipated. We have had challenges, but we are the best when overcoming them. We speak the only language that matters: love for our children.

Our capacity to love is greater than your capacity to overwhelm. Autism is naïve. You are alone. We are a community of warriors. We have a voice.

You think because some of our children cannot speak, we cannot hear them? That is autism's weakness. You think that because my child lives behind a wall, I am afraid to knock it down with my bare hands?

You have not properly been introduced to this community of parents and grandparents, of siblings and friends and schoolteachers and therapists and pediatricians and scientists. Autism, if you are not scared, you should be.

When you came for my child, you forgot: you came for me. Autism, are you listening?" The commercial speaks. Neil watches the commercial in horror, and that's when he tears the poster down, tossing it in the garbage. After that, he goes after Shaun.

"Hey Shaun? I'm sorry. I didn't know that Autism Speaks was that awful. Can you forgive me?" He asks. Shaun slowly comes out of the stall.

"Yes, I can." He answers simply.

 **Yes, Autism Speaks really is that awful, and yes, that disgusting commercial is real. If you really want to watch it here you go: /watch?v=9UgLnWJFGHQ &t=3s**


End file.
